


This Machine Can Only Swallow Money

by frausorge



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-05-10
Updated: 2008-05-10
Packaged: 2017-10-06 10:43:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frausorge/pseuds/frausorge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five things that never happened to Ashlee Simpson and Pete Wentz.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Machine Can Only Swallow Money

**Author's Note:**

  * For [e](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=e).



> By spEcial rEquEst, for somEonE who knows who shE is. Title from R.E.M.

1.

They'll never guest on TRL or win a VMA, Pete knows that perfectly well, but the video they scrimped and saved for goes far enough on MTVu to get them in the doors of a few parties, and he's determined to enjoy the fuck out of that while it lasts. Plus, it's not like his big mouth has ever been shy in the first place. So when he sees Ashlee Simpson standing all by herself next to some enormous fireplace, he doesn't hesitate to march right over to her and say, "Hey, Ashlee, how's your night going?"

She looks at him through her silky blond bangs and says, "Fine, thanks."

He should have brought her a drink or something. "My name's Pete," he says. "Pete Wentz. I'm in, uh, my band's called Fall Out Boy."

"Oh, yeah?" Ashlee says politely. "Where are you guys from?"

"Chicago."

"I love Chicago!" she says, and Pete grins. This he can maybe work with.

"Where's your favorite place to go in the city?"

But the venues she mentions are all stages he's never stood on, and Ashlee doesn't recognize the names of the clubs Fall Out Boy usually plays. "I love the lake, though," she says. "I remember coming up Lake Shore Drive where I could see it from the window, with the sun on the water, and it was so pretty."

"Yeah," he says, "it's really something."

She smiles at him. "It's been really nice talking to you," she says, and holds out her hand.

Pete shakes it instinctively. Then he thinks _oh, what the hell,_ and touches her smooth, bare shoulder. "Hey, can I get your number before you have to go? I'd love to show you more of Chicago sometime."

She looks at him seriously, the smile replaced by a faint hint of concern. "Thanks," she says. "That's really sweet - you seem like a great guy. I just, you know, I'm just really not looking for a musician right now."

"Oh, right, sure," he says.

"Good luck with your next album!" Ashlee says, already moving away.

"Same to you," Pete answers. But he's not sure if she hears it anymore.

2.

The first thing Ashlee notices about Pete Wentz is how hot he is. Maybe that's shallow of her, but _fuck_, that mouth, those eyes, those ridiculously lean hips, those hands. She'd definitely like to see more. So her motives might not be entirely pure when she stops by the DJ booth and says, "Hi, I just wanted to say I really like _From Under the Cork Tree_."

"Oh, thanks!" Pete says. "Hey, sorry, you're… uh?"

"Ashlee Simpson," she says. His face stays blank. She sighs and says, "Jessica's sister."

"Oh right, Ashlee!" he says. "Yeah, so we're working on recording the next one right now. We're hoping to get it released by the end of the year."

"Me too," she says. "I mean, I've been doing some work in the studio. Not sure yet when it might go out. But I'm getting really into all these different beats, and how they work with the lyrics I've been writing. I'm just really excited about it."

"Sounds cool," Pete says.

"So how do you like LA?" Ashlee says, just as his eyes drift away to something behind her shoulder. She gets a waft of the old familiar scent of hair dye and perfume, and a little knot of girls arrives, all identical perfect slopes of noses and breasts, with Michelle Trachtenberg at the center.

"Hey, baby," Michelle says, tucking two fingers into Pete's back pocket and smiling up at him. She doesn't look at Ashlee at all.

Pete says, "Hey, babe," and brushes his lips lightly against Michelle's.

"Jennifer's been totally dying to hear this one song all night," Michelle says. "I promised her you'd play it for her, will you?"

Pete nods and looks back down at his board as Michelle's friends close in around the two of them. Ashlee takes a step back.

Pete glances up one more time as he's tugging his headphones into place. Ashlee meets his eyes, and he gives her a faint apologetic smile. Then one of the girls drapes a long, slender arm over his shoulder to point at a switch, and he doesn't look up again as Ashlee leaves.

Ashlee goes into the bathroom and splashes some cool water on her cheeks. She has a little loop of melody bubbling in the back of her head, and it feels like it might work itself into something tangible by morning. She looks at herself hard in the mirror, puts a grin on her face, and blows a kiss to her own crooked nose.

3.

"That little bastard," Petra says. "I can't fucking believe I let that motherfucker talk me into blowing him."

"Can't you?" Andi says. "I can."

Petra flips her off and continues pacing. "I mean, with the 'your sound's so different and interesting,' and the 'let me buy you a drink,' and the, the fucking pretty eyes! And then nothing! I thought all those bubblegum guys were supposed to be so wholesome and chivalrous and shit."

"Sure," Andi says. "Like when Jesse divorced Nicole as soon as he'd gotten to fuck her. No reason to think his brother might be a little unreliable."

"I just thought Ashley liked me," Petra says. She stops abruptly and drops down onto the bench behind her, turning to look out the window at the warehouses and auto body shops they're passing outside. "I wanted him to call."

"Oh, Pet," Andi says. Petra keeps on staring at the streets going by. Andi clears her throat. "Look," she says, "maybe Ashley does like you. Maybe even a lot. But his career's built on being clean-cut and handsome and available for twelve-year-olds to crush on. You know he can hardly afford to date anyone at all - let alone a girl as, uh, hardcore as you. No matter how much he might want to."

Andi probably has a point, but Petra refuses to find it comforting. "Then he's a hypocrite and a fucking idiot as well as a bastard," she says.

"Write a song about it," Andi advises. Petra turns and fixes her with a glare, but Andi's looking down at her magazine again and doesn't react.

"I just might," Petra says out loud, a promise and a warning to Ashley and Andi and the music industry and the world at large. "I just might."

4.

The party was fun when Ashlee first arrived with Jess and her friends, but as the night wears on it's gotten a little scary, more and more crowded with fewer and fewer people she knows. In fact, when she gets back from the kitchen with her new drink the girl she was talking to has disappeared, and as Ashlee scans the room she doesn't see any familiar faces at all.

That's why she gets so excited when a short, dark-haired guy bumps into her and she realizes she knows his profile, and his name. "Pete!" she says. "You're Pete Wentz, aren't you? It's Ashlee. I haven't seen you in ages, how are you?"

He stares at her for a second. "I have to go," he says.

"No, c'mon, wait. Tell me your news! You were in that band, right? Do you ever still play anymore? What happened to you guys?"

"You don't wanna know," Pete says. He has this funny way of muttering without really opening his mouth.

"I do," Ashlee insists. "I really liked your CD." She lays her hand on his elbow to try to keep him from leaving. But he shakes her off with a lightning-swift flash of his arm and turns to face her full on.

"Listen," he says, "Ashlee, or whatever your name is, you need to get out of here. Go straight home, and get under the covers like a good girl, and stay there till the sun comes up."

"Fuck you," she says, "you don't have to be like that. I was just happy to see you."

"You shouldn't be," Pete says. "I'm not a rock star, I'm not cool, I'm not fun. You should stay as far away from guys like me as you can." He glances once all the way around the room, eyes darting from one cluster of people to another, before he turns back to look at her again. "Trust me on this."

He opens his mouth and bares his fangs at her. Ashlee freezes.

"Go home now," Pete says. "Run."

Ashlee takes one deep, shuddering breath, staring at his mouth, and then she can move again. She turns blindly away, stumbles and trips but keeps going, heads for the door and reaches it and doesn't look back.

5.

Ashlee walks over to the park on Thursday afternoon after her Econ class gets out, and the guy with the tattoos is there again, trying to get his bulldog to fetch.

"Hemmy!" he says, showing the dog a stick before tossing it a few yards away. "C'mon, Hemmy, go get it! Go on, dude!" But the dog just blinks up at him innocently and rests its chin on his toes.

Ashlee can't help laughing, and the guy looks over.

"Pretty pathetic, huh?" he says. "I have the least obedient dog ever."

"Well, would you wanna run after a stick on a day this warm?" she says. Then his grin breaks over his whole face.

"Okay, I have the _smartest_ dog ever," he says. "I'm Pete, by the way. What's your name?"

"Ashlee," she says.

"You know, I've seen you walking here a lot. You live nearby?"

She admits that her dorm is pretty close, and that she's a freshman at DePaul, and it turns out Pete went there too.

"Oh yeah?" she says. "What are you doing now?"

"Law school," he says, widening his eyes in comic horror. "Following in my father's footsteps."

Ashlee has to laugh again. "Really? You don't, uh, look the type."

"I'm a new type - the 'hardcore rocker loves to shoot his mouth off and talk everybody down' law type. Plus my dad's just totally awesome. He never tried to make me do anything, he just made it so interesting I realized it's what I want to do too."

"Must be nice," Ashlee mutters. Pete doesn't call her on that, just tilts his head to the side and looks at her. "So your dog's name is Hemmy?" she says.

"Yeah," he says. "Or Hemingway, actually."

"Nice," she says, "that's a good dog name," and she crouches down to pet Hemingway's head and scratch vigorously behind his ears. When she looks up Pete is watching her.

"Hey, would you wanna go for coffee together sometime?" he asks. "Or like even, if you're free, right now?"

She gives Hemingway's nape one last scratch and stands up to meet Pete's eyes. "I'd love to," she says, and then they're both smiling like stupid into each other's faces.


End file.
